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Shay's Rebellion by Mainevent
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Shay's Rebellion: Boarding Action
Date: 16 August 2003, 1:02 AM
It had been ages since the private had a decent shower, hell, it had been ages since he had anything resembling a break in fighting. The UNSC carrier he was aboard had been raided seven times in the last two weeks. Even stranger than the fact they weren't destroyed, was the fact the covenant appeared to be searching for something.
Their boarding parties were ferocious, and killed anything in their way without mercy, leading him to believe they weren't in search of one of the personnel. If it was an assassination attempt, then they would have simply turned the ship into space dust.
The UNSC Spearhead was extremely damaged. Plasma scoring lined her hull from stem to stern, and the crew had been widdled down from five-thousand to just under two. The infirmary only tended to those who wouldn't take to much time, or were otherwise expected to survive.
Combat effectiveness was virtually non-existant, both from the ship herself and her marine counterparts. Shay ran his fingers through his hair, catching them on a matt of dried blood. He wasn't sure if it was his or someone else's, but in all honesty he really didn't care.
His body throbbed constantly. His feet were swollen, his back was sore, his muscles were exhausted, and abrasions covered at least ten percent of his flesh. His stomach roared for a taste of food. Any morsel would do, it just needed to eat. It had been running on protein bars and wake-up pills for the last three days.
The small iron shower basin that surrounded him seemed more like a coffin than a cleaning facility. It smelled of death and was covered in blood. Gore smatter was dried onto the flooring, stopping up the drain. He nudged it with his foot, and it slowly oozed into the tubes.
He knew it wouldn't last, it was too good to last. He was right too. The klaxons began their ominous wail seven minutes into his rinse. Punching the shower stall in anger only served to promote two new cuts on his knuckles. He muttered several inflammitory words to himself as he turned off the water, and stepped into the locker room.
There were no clean towels, only bloodstained or drenched in a bodily fluids. He opted out. Running to his locker, he was again out of luck. The clean suit he had hung in the bin was missing, as was his sidearm. The hairs on his neck and back went rigid as the sound of plasma fire echoed through the hall to his right.
Screams permeated throught the vents, and he shivered. Fighting in full armor was dangerous enough, but he was going to have to do it naked. The odds were not in his favor for this battle, but he really didn't care. He had nothing to lose by fighting.
Numbers weren't particularly strong for Shay, and that's why he had failed the academy. He fiddled with the locked door's combination several times before it finally winked green and slid open.
An elite's shield glimmered and a 7.6mm bullet ricocheted off of it and came within an inch of Shay's head. The familiar clink clank of a grenade was heard, and both of them instinctively dove for cover. The armored enemy juggernaut landed pratically on top of him. Penetrating black eyes stared at him through the slits in his helmet.
"Wort, wort, wort!" Burst from his clashing mandibles as struggled to get on his feet. Unfortunately for him, he was missing his legs. The grenade had wounded the bastard, but he was still extremely dangerous. Shay rolled up under the elite, and pushed with all of his strength.
Both of them eyed the plasma rifle lying unused only meters away, and without legs the elite had no hope. Shay bearcrawled his way to the foreign weapon, and clutched it with both hands. It was huge in his tiny fingers, but he could use it.
He leveled it with the intruder's head, and prepared to squeeze the trigger. Cold metal sent a chill throughout his body, and the voice that followed stunned him.
"Goodbye human." Reverberated through the locker room, and Shay was sure that was the last phrase he would ever hear. The ship shuddered beneath them as what could only be a massive explosion rocked the vessel.
Shay scrambled for a row of lockers several feet from him, and slammed into them as another blast rolled the Spearhead onto her side. The elite's spiny toes dug into the tile floor, and he firmly planted himself. He combed the room for the pathetic and unrighteous human.
"You are destined to die today, and I am your destiny."
"I've got destiny for you." Shay whispered under his breath.
"Come out, and I will make this as painless as I can."
"Why don't you come over here, and I'll make your death as painless as I can."
"SILENCE HUMAN!! I will not tolerate your insolence any further. You will die NOW!"
Shay gripped his gun close to his chest, and waited for the alien's figure to appear before him......
Stay tuned for Shay's Rebellion: Down but not out.
Shay's Rebellion: Down but not out.
Date: 23 August 2003, 3:27 AM
Shay was still gripping the gun close to his chest as the large teal mandibles appeared in the corner of his eye. He closed his eyes tight, and prayed silently. To his surprise the alien fighter continued walking. Shay slowly aimed for his head, and gripped the trigger.
"I'm going to roast your flesh and eat it human, I like the taste." He garbled through his translator.
"Roast this!" Shay jerked the trigger hard and had a hard time stabilizing the weapon as it fired. Fortunately, he was close enough that the majority of the rounds landed. Static popped and sizzled with the plasma's collision dispersed.
The nearly eight foot tall elite gave a throaty roar, and pivoted. The aluminum lockers buckled like tinfoil from the blow, sending several items tumbling onto the floor. Shay scanned the materials for anything useful. A shirt, a pair of pants, a standard issue pistol, some dogtags, and two pair of "Helljumpers Royale" playing cards.
He recognized them instantly, those items were his, but the middle of a fight against a heavily armored eight foot tall elite was not the time to get dressed. Another swipe broke the pistol lying next to his skull into several hundred pieces, which exploded in hundreds of directions.
The terror-struck marine billy-clubbed the animal with the back of his plasma rifle, and then crawled through his legs. The heavy eyes scanned the room once more, looking wearily for their prey.
The crash of dining utensils clanging to the ground in the Mess Hall behind him momentarily absorbed his attention. He whizzed around to find several marines storming the room. Bullets once more sparked his now-recharged shields to life, an ominous warning that it was time to leave.
"Remember 'Akazee Sudahan human, for he will be your demise."
"Remember Jack Mehoff." Shay threw a one-fingered salute over the top of the cabinet he was hiding behind, and then made a slight wave.
"When we meet again Jack Mehoff, it will be your last."
"It's a date." Shay screamed as the marine's weapons drowned out his hoarse voice. 'Akazee made for the door in record time, and disapeered down the passageway with seven angry marines on his back.
Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and burned his eyes. His deep breaths and heaving chest belittled how truly frightened he had been. In all truth, Shay was not a warlord, or a real warrior for that matter.
As much as he put on his machismo demeanor for his fellow marines, all of his warstories were completely fake. After six years behind a monitor at D-145 Crimson, he was anxious to get out there, take it to the covenant.
He learned all to quickly that he was wrong, and almost dead wrong. He had been transferred to the Spearhead only four months before his encounter with 'Akazee, and rarely fired a weapon during basic. He used to pride himself for his academic achievements, but found out all-to-quickly that those didn't mean squat in battle.
He mustered his courage, and pulled himself onto his feet using a nearby handrail. His clothes were still lying untouched on the floor where he was nearly behedded moments before. Several deep breaths to collect himself, and he was on his way.
The uni-fab material wasn't the most comfortable clothing ever made, but it was one hundred times better than being naked in a firefight. He laughed to himself as he zipped the front of his jumper up, and then holstered his pistol.
"Bad cyborg, baad cyborg!" Echoed through the locker room as a grunt waddled by, only to fall dead a foot from Shay. A single bullet was lodged in his forehad, still smoking from the explosive ordinance packed neatly in the tip of the round.
"What in the holy hell....." He thought to himself. Suddenly, an enormous green figure standing in the doorway stared casually at him for a moment, then turned and surged forward. Two more passed the entrance seconds later, and he was left confused and bewildered. Confused and bewildered as he was though, at least he was safe, for now.
Shay surveyed the damaged rubble lying heaped around him, amazed at how one......creature...could do all of this alone. He curled his fist and tried to pummel the locker, but only regretted it as his knuckles turned red and burned.
Exhaling onto them only tired him out, and did nothing to relieve the pain, but he did notice something awkward. A semitransparent ooze globbed onto the jagged metal caught his eye.
It didn't appear to be blood, instead, it felt like a resin given off by something. But what?
Stay tuned for Shay's Rebellion: Space is Cold
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